


Head Trip

by Nadare



Series: Goretober 2019 [5]
Category: Upgrade (2018)
Genre: Artificial Intelligence, Body Horror, Cyberpunk, F/M, Gen, Goretober, Implied Murder, Mind Games, One Shot, Post-Canon, Psychological Horror, Virtual Reality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-16 18:30:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21040793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nadare/pseuds/Nadare
Summary: The scene faded into black just as his hands touched her hips, Grey’s groan of frustration changing into a startled gasp as the heat on his fingers turned wet, solid bits sticking to his skin. It took a few seconds for him to realize it was blood and other unrecognizable viscera.





	Head Trip

[Written on and off from 10-12-19 to 10-15-19]

Prompts: Virtual Reality, Glitch, and Parasite.

* * *

** _“Head Trip”_ **

“Good evening, Mr. Wilson,” the doorman said as he neared the front entrance of an elegant hotel. It was a strange dream, Grey unable to influence any of it, feeling like an outsider looking in, watching a movie. Even though he was apparently going by an alias, Grey nodded in silent acknowledgment, moving past the man in uniform.

The classy marbled interior was way past Grey’s paygrade, but no one seemed to think he was out of place. After going up a few floors in the elevator and entering what had to be his room, Grey figured out why as soon as he saw himself in the mirrors of the hallway closet.

He was dressed in an expensive-looking tuxedo with a bright red tie hanging from his neck. His dark hair was slicked back, Grey looking for all the world like a socialite who’d just come from a night on the town. Nothing showed in his face as he started to loosen the tie, a large jagged scar on the back of his left hand.

A flash of himself grunting as he drove a knife through his hand on purpose swept through his mind. Grey tried to hold onto it, but the memory fell right through his tenuous grasp, fading into nothingness.

_What was that?_

His mouth opened a touch, a chuckle dropping from it. Grey could have sworn the brief shine in his eyes was mischievous as if he had recalled an old joke.

There was a knock on the door, Grey walking towards it a moment later. He looked through the keyhole, a thin blonde woman in a black dress standing before it, one brown eye appearing off-kilter from the fisheye angle.

Grey grasped the doorknob and opened the door, the corners of his mouth turned up in what could have been a smile but felt empty.

“Robert Wilson?”

“Yes,” he replied. “That’s correct.”

She examined him from head to toe, looking pleased with his appearance. “Well, this should be fun. You paid in advance, right?”

“Of course.”

The woman pushed past him into the hotel room. “Call me Aubrey.”

She removed her coat, lying one hand on her hip, giving Grey a come-hither look.

He stood there, gazing at Aubrey as she let her dress drop to the floor, then took a step towards her. The closer he got, the more Grey could see where she’d had some work done.

The chest, in particular, was far too robust for her age, the body proportions unnatural. A barcode had been tattooed onto one of the back of one of her wrists, a slight upraised bump the telltale sign a banking chip was present. 

“Do you have any other implants?”

The easygoing smile on Aubrey’s face dimmed a tad. “Is that a deal-breaker?”

Grey shook his head. “No,” he replied. “But I’d like to see more.”

Aubrey bit off a laugh. “Would you now? Is this a kink thing?”

Instead of answering the question, he reached out, touching Aubrey’s chin lightly. The brown ring around the pupils of her eyes lit up, blue and white internal circuitry spinning as it analyzed and viewed the surroundings. “Cameras. How very intriguing.”

She moved her head to the right, removing it from Grey’s grasp. “They’re for my protection. In case anyone gets violent with me, there’s a video record of the event.”

Grey narrowed his brow. “Where’s the black box then?”

Aubrey leaned forward, gaze shining in the light from the lamp as she brushed her mouth against Grey’s. “Try and find it.”

The scene faded into black just as his hands touched her hips, Grey’s groan of frustration changing into a startled gasp as the heat on his fingers turned wet, solid bits sticking to his skin. It took a few seconds for him to realize it was blood and other unrecognizable viscera.

What remained of Aubrey was lying on the bed, her throat slashed on one side. The back of her neck had been cut into, strips of flesh hanging down from it. A long flat computer board and wires ran underneath the surface of her skin, sticking out the sides of the wide wound. 

Grey wanted to scream, but could only stand over the side of the bed, one of his hands clutching a small black memory card, in the other a scalpel stained with red. 

His head moved slightly as if suddenly sensing something in the room.

“I thought I felt a tickle in the back of my mind tonight,” he said evenly, voice devoid of any emotion. “I got too engrossed in my work. You’re not supposed to see this.”

_What-What’s going on?_

“This?” Grey looked to the blood on his hands, flexing his fingers. “I couldn’t allow her to record me. I asked Aubrey nicely to delete the footage she’d gathered. She refused.”

_But why her?_

“She’s only a woman of the night, merely a body to explore because I became curious about human sexuality.”

_Did you...?_ Grey couldn't finish the thought, sick to his stomach at the idea of using her, then cutting away…

Grey sighed. “No, I did not. I tire of this. I must clean up and you have a life to get back.”

_Wha-_

The world buzzed loudly, bright flashes assaulting his vision, making Grey dizzy. He was drowning in noise and sensation, wishing he could shut it out until he woke up with a start to find he was in bed, his body on edge from the dream.

The light from the bathroom spilled out, halfway illuminating Grey’s hands as he held them out in front of him. He could still smell the copper in the air, feel the warm blood and gore on his fingers.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Asha asked beside him, slowly sitting up, the covers slipping down to her waist.

It had felt so real.

“I just had a really odd and vivid dream,” Gray replied, letting his hands drop down to his lap. “There was this woman bleeding on a bed and I had a surgical scalpel in my hand.”

Asha reached for his arm, squeezing it lightly. “Jesus, Grey, you really know how to pick them.”

“I wasn’t in control, I couldn’t even move. Something else was. It felt…mechanical and emotionless.”

He felt like he was on the verge of uncovering a deep dark secret, something that would change the very fabric of his life.

“It was just a nightmare,” Asha replied, lying her head on Grey’s shoulders. “Random bits and pieces your mind puts together to entertain you while you sleep. Nothing more.”

Grey turned to Asha. “You say that, but you weren’t there.”

“Grey,” Asha said with a touch of impatience. “You’re at home in bed with me, not dissecting some strange woman, right?”

“Right.”

“No problem then,” Asha said, placing a hand on Grey’s neck as she leaned forward. She kissed him lightly. “You need a distraction? I’d be more than happy to provide one.”

Grey gently touched her shoulders and laid Asha onto her back, looking down at her. Her skin warmed the palm of his hands within seconds, the passion in her dark eyes reserved solely for him.

The solidness of his wife’s soft body against his was hard to deny, but despite the pleasant situation, Grey was still uneasy. None of his previous dreams had ever been so intense.

“Grey, seriously, what's wrong? You’re starting to scare me.”

The frightened expression slowly developing on Asha's face at his prolonged silence was enough to break through to Grey. He smiled at her, moving one hand up to cup Asha's cheek.

He was being stupid. Of course everything was fine. Grey much preferred this reality over his nightmare anyway.

“It's nothing,” he said. “Really.”

Asha smiled back at him. “For a second there, I thought my feminine charms had lost their effectiveness.”

“Never,” Grey replied, making his intentions loud and clear as he started to strip her tank off. “You’re stuck with me for good.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Focused solely on Asha, the fine details of the dream slipped from his mental fingers. Grey thanked his lucky stars the accident six months ago hadn't taken her away from him.

He didn't know what he would do without her.


End file.
